An accident takes Nikita . . . .

Even though they were on a mission, Nikita couldn't help but feel a romantic twinge coursing through her body. They were booked onto a luxury ocean liner. Their mission was simply enough. Threats had been made to the company sending out this ocean liner. Simply put, this ship wouldn't complete its maiden voyage and as Operations had put it, "History would repeat itself."

Michael didn't see the need for Section's involvement. Section couldn't even really pinpoint which group was responsible for the threats other than it was a small faction that was just coming into power. Michael felt that this mission was a waste of Section's time, but Michael's opinion didn't count this time either. Oversight and George felt that if this ship should sink, the repercussions would be felt worldwide. It would be a morally crushing blow to the human spirit.

Nikita and Michael had been booked as a newlywed couple. It was nothing new to Nikita or Michael. They had played that role a dozen times over. However, this mission also had a secondary purpose; to help Michael rekindle his relationship with Nikita. Since the mission with Elena, and his son Adam, Michael still wasn't the same. Madeline had given Nikita secondary instructions: Reignite the relationship or Michael would face reconditioning.

Nikita sighed. It had been almost five days on the trip and there was no sign of impending sabotage. Nikita watched as Michael got dressed. No matter how many times she had seen him, she was still amazed by the sight of his body. The hair was a different matter. That had taken some getting used to. It wasn't that she didn't like it, but it was . . . different.

"Kita?" Michael asked.

"Hmmm . . .?" was her response.

"What were you thinking of?" he asked. Michael had an idea. Whenever he saw Nikita with that 'look' on her face, he had a pretty good idea of what she was thinking. She was trying to 'play' him. Michael didn't resent her for it. In fact, he sort of liked it. He had an idea that Madeline was partly to blame for things, but it didn't matter. In the end, Michael would win and Nikita would be at his side.

"Oh . . . nothing. I was thinking maybe we should go below tonight and check to see if any explosives have been planted. It's possible that no one is here at all. They may be waiting to simply execute their plan at the given time, whatever that is." This mission was one of the vaguest ones Nikita had been on in a long time. They were told that the explosives could have already been planted or that there may be someone on board who would activate them from there. Nikita knew there were other things she'd like to do with Michael but now was not the time. If they could finish the mission early, then they might have some down time to themselves.

"Good." was all the Michael offered as answer.

There was still one question that Nikita had to ask. "Do you still miss him?" Nikita knew it was almost cruel to ask the question, but Michael still hadn't grieved over the loss of his son. Nikita knew he wasn't dead, but not being to have him was just about the same thing.

"Leave it alone Nikita." Michael responded as he left the room.

Nikita and Michael's day was filled with an odd assortment of luxury liner activities. Both had made some friends and were now having lunch with them.

"So, Nikita . . . Michael . . . what made you decide to take this trip?" Margaret asked. Margaret was the wife of Pierre Maréchal, a wealthy industrialist with ancestors going back to France.

"Well it's like a . . ." Nikita began.

"We're trying to recover from the loss of my son." Michael interjected. Nikita almost choked on her tea. She couldn't believe Michael would interject his emotions into the profile, but then given his current display of emotions, this fit perfectly.

"I'm sorry, we'll there are many romantic elements that can help you through this." Margaret offered.

"Thank you. You're very kind." Nikita responded.

Nikita and Michael continued their lunch. They met with Margaret and her husband later for dinner. Nikita was once again surprise of another mention by Michael about his son. Luckily, nighttime soon came and they were now back safely in their cabin.

Later that night, Nikita and Michael slipped into their surveillance clothing and proceeded down below to look for any signs of a bomb or other explosive device. They split up to cover more space in a shorter amount of time.

"Michael, I'm near engine room three. Are you reading me?" Nikita asked.

"Yes. Begin your search." Michael answered. Both knew that what they were looking for could be very small, not much bigger than a small suitcase.

Michael and Nikita had searched for well over an hour. Michael was about to tell Nikita to stop for the night when he heard something from Nikita.

"Michael, do you read me? I think I've found something?" Nikita said.

"Nikita what is it." Michael hoped Nikita remembered to be careful.

"It's our bomb . . I'm going to . . ." and then there was nothing. Michael was now worried. He began to run to Nikita's location.

When Nikita awoke, the first thing she noticed was that she had a pounding headache. The second thing she noticed was the she was in a stateroom back aboard the ship. She no clothes on. Slowly she blinked her eyes and they slowly opened. Michael was standing over her but somehow, he looked different.

"Where am I? How did I get here?" She tried to sit up but was quickly pushed down by Michael.

"That's what we wanted to know." Michael began. "I was out taking in the night air when I happened to catch a reflection of something on the water. I looked down and well, there you were. You were so luckly young lady, the ship had stopped for just a bit to do some maintentance. Otherwise, the ship would have probably went right by you and you would have died. I called the captain and he sent some men to fish you out. What I can't figure out is where did you get clothes like that? I've never heard of a woman dressing like a man."

Nikita thought for a moment. Then, she looked at Michael. He wasn't dressed in his normal attire. In fact, his clothes looked a little dated. Just then, a porter stepped into the room. Nikita squinted at the embroidery on his shirt. "RMS Titanic!!"

Nikita fell back on her bed. She passed out.

The nightmare has just begun . . .

When Nikita awoke, she found herself back in her cabin, or so she thought. The entrance of Michael, to check on her condition, reminded her of where she was . . . the R.M.S. Titanic. Michael had brought Nikita, what he referred to as proper clothes for a young lady. Nikita thanked him for them as Michael left.

"Think Nikita!! Think!!" She told herself. How in the world did she end up here? Was this some sort of hallucination? Was this another one of Section's games? Nikita had many questions and not very many answers. Nikita decided that the best way to find out what was going on, was the get dressed. Nikita looked at the clothes. Good grief!! The clothes Michael had brought were unreal. There appeared to be not one but five different layers of clothes! It would take an hour just to put on all of these clothes! Nikita sighed as she proceeded to get dressed. She missed her mornings of 'throwing on whatever worked.'

When she was dressed, Nikita opened the door and stepped into what appeared to be a living room. Michael was in the room as well as some other people. Michael noticed Nikita's entrance and turned to offer her a helping hand.

Nikita almost went into a state of shock when Michael touched her back.

"You missed one." He whispered as he fastened a missed button. When he was done, he smoothed a wrinkle in the back. His touch sent a wave of electricity through Nikita's body.

"Ah, our young visitor is well enough to be seeing guests." Michael pronounced.

"But, does this young lady have a name?" The voice from the chair called.

"Nikita. My name is Nikita." She answered.

The woman in the chair stood up. Nikita would have almost fainted if Michael wasn't helping her stand. The woman in the chair was the virtual double of Madeline!! 'My god!!' thought Nikita. 'What's next? Operations as the Wizard of Oz?'

"Hello my name is Madeleine" The woman offered her hand in small handshake gesture. "Michel is my son." This Madeline spoke with a considerable French accent. Nikita thought that if she was having a dream, it figured that Madeline would be involved with it.

"My son tells me that they found you in the water last night. How did you ever come to be there?" Madeleine asked as she relaxed back down into her chair again.

Nikita wondered what would be a plausible excuse. Then she remembered, sometimes the truth is the best thing said. "Honestly I don't remember."

Madeleine smiled and then spoke. "Well, it's probably for the best. But rest easy, you're on the world's safest ship. This is the Titanic. It is unsinkable!!"

"Yeah right . . ." Nikita muttered to herself.

"Excuse me?" Madeleine asked.

"You're absolutely right!!" Nikita corrected herself. She knew the basic history of the Titanic. The next question in her mind was "What's today's date?"

"It's April 10th." Michel answered. "Why?"

Nikita realized that she must have asked her question outloud. Nikita smiled at Michel and responded. "No reason. Just curious."

It was at the moment that Michel's mother Madeleine interrupted things with a suggestion. "Why don't you take uh . . . Nikita? . . . out on a tour of the ship. I'm sure she's never seen anything like it before."

"That's an excellent idea." Michael responded. "Shall we?" Michael offered his arm to Nikita. Nikita smiled. If this was a dream, at least here, Michael was a gentleman.

The walk out on deck was very relaxing to Nikita. It was also romantic. Seeing Michael in something other than black was also a pleasant surprise. Today he wore a cream colored suit with matching shirt. A single white rose served as the final touch to a very elegant suit.

"So, Michael . . . uh Michel . . . tell me about yourself." Nikita thought that maybe this Michael would tell her things that the other one wouldn't.

"Well, I was born in a small village in the region of Aix-en-Provence. I'm the only child of my parents. Oh, I'll be getting married soon. She's really . . . nice." Michael turned away for a minute. He didn't want to admit to himself, but he found this young lady very intoxicating.

"That's good. What's her name?" Nikita asked. Well, there went any hope of romance!!

"Elena." Michael responded. "Her father is a wealthy industrialist and well the combining of our two families will be good for both of us."

"Wait a minute . . let me get this straight." Nikita began. "You're marrying this Elena because someone is TELLING you to?" Nikita began to feel like this was Section!!

"Well, . . ." Michael stammered. "It's good for the family. Besides, I will grow to love her. Why else would someone marry?"

"For love?" Nikita asked.

"Hmm . . . for love." Michael smiled. Nikita had never seen him smile before.

"Let's continue our walk. Dinnertime is in two hours." With those words, Nikta and Michael continued their stroll around the deck.

From a corner, a figure watched. Madeleine did not like what she saw. This . . . this Nikita would bear watching.

Dinnertime arrived two hours later. Nikita simply assumed that she would wear what she had, for dinner, but Madeleine instructed her "that would never do." Madeleine informed Nikita that she would manage to find something for her to wear.

Madeleine did indeed find something for Nikita to wear and when Michael joined his mother and Nikita at the stairwell for dinner, the expression on his face was priceless. Nikita managed a small smile as Michael held out each arm to escort both ladies to dinner.

Michael couldn't help but be entranced by this young visitor. Never in his life, had he seen someone so full of life before. Nikita's dress tonight only enhanced her already perfect aura that she conveyed. She was dressed in a long red burgundy gown. It was cut a bit lower in the back area but Michael simply assumed that her dress reflected the style of Paris. Nikita drew her hair up, leaving a few tendrils to cascade gently about her face. Michael didn't know why, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of this vision of beauty.

Michael, Nikita and Madeleine continued down the spiral staircase until they reached the main dining salon. Upon entrance, Nikita was greeted by another feast for her eyes. The dining salon was exquisite. It seemed to extend for hundreds of feet. Nikita glanced at the tables, noticing the gold and silver that adorned the tables. Eventually, Nikita along with Michael and Madeleine were seated at their table.

Dinner seemed to last for hours, at least to Nikita. While waiting for the various course to be served, people at Nikita's table passed the time with small, polite conversation. Nikita looked over to Michael, who seemed to be enjoying himself with a series of jokes and stories of his masculine bravado. She'd smile when Michael looked at her. He smiled in return. Then, without warning, Nikita was put at the center of attention by none other than . . . Madeleine.

"So, Nikita . . . tell us about yourself. Where are you from?" Madeleine smiled. That smile. She recognized it. It was actually more of a smirk. It was the smirk gave to someone when Madeleine began to play mind games with them. Nikita didn't like it; if fact, she hated it with a passion.

"Oh there's not much to tell . . ." Nikita began.

"Oh don't be modest. Michael found her floating in the water just last night. I guess you could say he 'fished' her out as it were." Madeleine turned and smiled back.

All the attention was now focused upon Nikita. The anger was almost ready to boil over in her, however, instead of reaching across the table and grabbing Madeleine by the throat, Nikita decided she would have some fun.

"Well, my father was just a poor fisherman. My mother died when I was young. I didn't know her very well. Anyways, we were out fishing when we were caught in a storm. The boat capsized and well somehow I survived. So, here I am." Nikita almost cringed at her story. 'God!' she thought. 'What a stupid story!'

"What will you do now?" One of the ladies at the table asked.

"I don't know. Michael and his mother have been so kind. I'm not sure what I can do to repay their generosity." She responded.

"You don't owe us a single thing." Michael answered. Once again he found himself staring at Nikita and yet, he didn't know why. It was the first thing he said all night. Yet, there was something more behind the words he spoke. Nikita could see it as each of them stole a glance when one thought the other wasn't watching. However, Madeleine was watching and she didn't like what she saw. It made her seethe.

"Well, I think it's time for us to bid you farewell for tonight." Madeleine stood up. Michael took her cue and followed. As he passed by Nikita he let a small paper fall into her hands. It read:

"Midnight. Where we were this morning.

M."

Nikita crumbled the paper.

Nikita waited on at the stern of the ship. Why she was here, she had no idea. It was a bit chilly and so she wrapped herself in the small shawl that she had been given. Suddenly two hands were at her side. She turned around. It was Michael, or rather Michel.

"God!! You scared me!!" Nikita exclaimed.

"I'm sorry. You looked cold." he apologized.

"I am. Look, why did you want to meet me here?" Nikita was curious. She wanted to know if this Michael would play games with her heart just like the one she knew.

"I wanted to see you. I wanted to tell you . . ." Michael paused.

"Yes?" She responded.

" . . . that I think I am in love with you." He looked in her eyes for some response. All he found was a blank response.

Nikita was surprised to say the least. This Michael was definitely not like the one she knew. For him to say that he loved her was more than she could ever have imagined. The next question in her mind was clear.

"What about Elena?" She asked.

"What about her?" Michael seemed confused.

"Are you still going to marry her?" Nikita wanted an answer but she wasn't sure if she'd be prepared for the response.

"I don't know." was Michael's response.

"Talk to me when you do." With those words, Nikita walked past Michael. Once again, he had hurt her, but what came next she was hardly prepared for. Michael grabbed her left wrist and pulled her back to him.

"Michael!!" she protested.

Michael silenced her protest with a kiss. It was not a simple kiss. It was very deep and extremely powerful. Nikita felt as if Michael were drawing strength from her. His tongue parted the gates to Nikita's lips so that he could taste the sweetness that she offered. Nikita responded in kind. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity both released each other; both needing a moment's rest.

"Michael." Nikita began.

"Michel." He corrected.

"Michel?" She repeated.

"Hmm . . .?" He answered.

"There's something that I must tell you. This ship will sink." Nikita didn't know why but somehow she felt compelled to tell Michael of the fate of the Titanic and how on April 14th, a tragedy would strike and that in the end, 1,502 people would lose their lives. Michael listened with great earnest. Finally he spoke.

"We must let my mother know. I owe her that much." Michael led Nikita by the hand back to their cabin. When they arrived, Michael requested that Nikita repeat her incredible tale to Madeleine. After listening very carefully, she arose from her chair and spoke.

"We must let the captain know immediately. I'll phone him immediately. Michael, we should prepare, just in case." Madeleine went back into her bedroom.

Nikita and Michael sat next to each other, waiting, hoping that everything would be fine. Just then there was a knock at the door. Michael, went and opened the door. It appeared to be the ship's doctor. Michael was clearly confused.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"I understand that someone here needs something to help her calm down." replied the doctor. Madeleine was now standing in the doorway smiling.

"She's the one I was tell you about doctor. I believe she must be mentally unbalanced. She should be kept under lock and key." Madeleine was clearly proud of herself. She was no dummy and saw the influence that Nikita had upon Michael. Therefore, if she were to remove the distraction, then Michael could focus on his marriage to Elena.

"What are you talking about??" Nikita expected something from Madeleine but clearly did not expect her to attack in this fashion.

"Now, calm down Miss. We're just going to give you something to calm you down." The doctor started to approach Nikita. Nikita was unsure what to do, but then Section's training kicked in and within seconds, the doctor was on the ground and Nikita ran out the door. Michael saw what happened and began to run after her.

"MICHEL!!" Madeleine called out. "Where do you think you are going?"

"To help her." he responded. For once, Michael decided to react with his heart and not the good of the family.

"If you choose her, you'll seal our fate!!" were Madeleine's final comments as Michael ran after Nikita.

Michael ignored her.

Michel must choose his fate . . . with destiny

Michael continued to run after Nikita. He'd figure that he'd catch up with her in a few minutes but then those "few" minutes turned into an hour. Still, he had not found her. Nikita. Now there was a strange name. Michael did not know why, but he was definitely enchanted by this young lady. He knew, from the moment he saw her awaken in his room, that they were meant to be together. Michael couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was as if they were two souls who had somehow found each other. Correction, Michael told himself, lost each other. Now, once again he was looking to find the one creature who had affected his life so deeply.

Nikita continued to run. Running, turning and descending down stairs, she was too afraid to look back. Nikita thought that at any moment, one of those "doctors" would help her with a needle. Somehow, Madeleine's duplicity didn't really surprise her. Even in her world, Madeline was always in the middle of Nikita and Michael's relationship. Running from Madeleine and the doctors wasn't her only problem. In less than 4 days, the Titanic would sink and if Nikita wasn't careful, she too would find herself in a watery grave.

Finally, Nikita took a break. When she did, she discovered that somehow she made it all the way down to third class or what was sometimes referred to as "steerage." She thought, maybe one of these people would help her. In return, she could save their lives by warning them about the impending disaster. Then, Nikita shook her head. 'There I go again. Operations would be laughing his ass off right now.' Nikita realized that she was actually planning to somehow save all the third class, when there were barely enough lifeboats for half of the people on board. "My god, what do I do?" She asked herself.

"Excuse me?" a young woman asked.

Nikita looked up to see a young maid staring at her. She then realized that she must have spoken aloud. "Oh . . . I'm sorry. I was just talking to myself."

"Is there a problem?" the young woman asked.

"I need a place to sleep and well I . . ." Nikita didn't know what else to say. She really couldn't come up with a good excuse. Luckily, the young maid smiled and took pity on her.

"Follow me." she instructed.

Nikita followed the young maid down a maze of hallways, and stairwells. Finally, she reached a door. The young woman opened it and motioned for Nikita to enter. Nikita smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." the young woman said.

"Wait, what is your name?" Nikita asked, not really knowing why.

"It's Elizabeth." the young maid replied.

"Thank you Elizabeth. Good night." With those words, Nikita closed the door.

The room was tiny but comfy. Nikita turned down the sheets and stripped off her outermost layer of clothes. She crawled under the covers and closed her eyes. She used all her mental abilities to literally "will" her body to rest. She knew she would need her energy if she were to be prepared for what would come tomorrow. She needed to live but most of all, she needed to find Michael.

After two hours of searching. Michel still hadn't found his Nikita. He returned to his room, only to find the displeased look of his mother greeting him at the door.

"I am very disappointed in you. This . . . Nikita is not worthy of your attention. You have a duty to your family. Do you want me to revert to my former profession from Paris?"

Michel knew of his mother’s former profession. She was a prostitute. For almost twenty years, his mother was well known throughout the streets of Paris. She had been the courtesan to many a famous diplomat, politician and local official. She was actually well respected by all except the women of the city. To them, she had been a whore, pure and simple.

Michel’s father had been one of his mother’s "clients." She never spoke his name, but Michel had an idea that he was someone of great importance. To Michel, it didn’t matter. He didn’t care if his father was a simple shopkeeper or the Prime Minister. He just wanted a father.

Growing up, Michel had only his mother to look to for support. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate what she had done for him, but now things were changing. The day that she proposed the idea of an arranged marriage was a turning point for Michel. He despised the idea, but since he had no other alternative, Michel agreed to his mother’s wishes. All that changed with the arrival of Nikita into his life.

"Michel?" Madeleine looked at her son. It was clear to her that he was not listening to a single word that she had been saying.

"Are you listening to me?" She continued.

Michel thought for a moment. For so many years, he had done as his mother had commanded him, often without a single word of complaint. From the outside, one would think that Michel was perfectly fine. Inside though, Michel was dying. He didn't know why. He didn't even care if he lived. All that changed with Nikita. In the matter of a few hours, Nikita had turned Michel's world upside down. Now, Michel was ready. He was ready to answer his mother for all those years of "servitude." Slowly, he turned to his mother and answered. "No mother I am not. At this point, I do not care if you do go back to Paris and sell yourself once again. I am moving forward and, God willing, I am going to ask Nikita to join me. For me, she is my light. I have been in the darkness too long." With those words, Michel turned and left his room once again, hoping to find Nikita.

Madeleine did not make a sound. The rage inside her was ready to erupt. This would not do! There were too many things that had already been arranged. The invitations had already been sent and the wedding dress, that Elena was going to wear, had already been chosen. Madeleine would have to find a way to put a stop to this nonsense between her son and this Nikita.

Suddenly, the clocked chimed. It was four o’clock in the morning. It was April 11th.

In about four more days, they would reach the United States. Madeleine chuckled to herself. That should be more than enough time to find this Nikita and to deal with her once and for all.

The sun crept silently into Nikita’s room. Nikita opened her eyes and looked out the window. Even though she didn’t have a watch on, she surmised that it was probably around six or seven o’clock in the morning. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and paused. What would she do today? She was still on the run, as it were, and so she had to be careful that Madeleine didn’t catch her.

Then there was the matter of trying to figure out what to do about the impending disaster to come. Nikita knew she had less than four days before the Titanic would strike the iceberg that would send it to its eventual watery grave. The next question that came to mind was "Do I try to change history?" Oddly enough, Nikita dismissed the idea. She was sure that if the Michael she knew was here, he would tell her that there was nothing she could do. If she tried to warn the captain, she’d be dismissed as nothing more than a raving lunatic. She could try to warn some of the people ahead of time, but most would probably ignore her for the same reason. Almost everyone believed that this ship was unsinkable. God, how wrong they would soon find out!

The next thought that came to mind was that of Michael, correction Michel. Now there was a mystery. In the past, her past that is, the Michael that she knew, would never have said so much as a "I care for you" let alone, "I think I am falling in love with you." This Michel had certainly affected her life. She didn’t know why but somehow, she had to find a way to save Michel and herself from the Titanic disaster.

"Well, time to get some things done." Nikita said to herself. She got dressed quickly,finding some appropriate clothing in a closet in the room, and proceeded to find some breakfast.

Nikita spent most of her day visiting among the steerage passengers. She came across one family that took to her almost immediately. The mother’s name was Mary and the father’s name was James. They appeared to be in their late twenties or early thirties. The one thing that drew her to the family were the children. One was a boy and the other was a girl. The boy was named of all things, Adam. Nikita couldn’t believe it. This boy even looked like Michael's Adam. She wondered what Michel would say if she saw this boy. Nikita loved to play with the children. She would watch the children while the parents went for dinner. Nikita was still too afraid to go out, for fear that Madeleine would find her.

Before Nikita knew it, the day had come to an end. Only three more days until the Titanic would have its disaster. Nikita returned to her cabin, undressed, and climbed into bed. She was about to turn out the light when there was a knock at the door. Nikita froze. Who would know that she was here? Again, the knock came at the door. Should she answer it? What would happen? Just then, Nikita heard a voice that calmed her fears.

"Kita?" The voice called out.

Nikita recognized the voice. It was Michel. Nikita immediately leaped to her feet and opened the door. Standing in the doorway was Michel, dressed in a beautiful blue suit. He was holding something in his hands. It was a book of some sort.

"May I come in?" He asked.

"Sure . . . I . . . uh . . . where’s your mother?" Nikita asked.

"I’d imagine that she is in her room. I haven’t spoken with her in two days. " Michel answered.

"Oh . . . really? Then why are you here?" Nikita was sure she knew the answer but she wanted to hear it from Michel’s own mouth.

"I wanted to talk with you." Michel began.

"Go on . . ." Nikita replied.

"Nikita, from the moment you entered my life, you affected me in a way that I never thought I knew was possible. I want to be with you for the rest of my life." Michel almost appeared to be on the point of tears. Nikita couldn't believe the emotional intensity that the was displaying. They continued to talk well into to night. Finally, when both had reached the point where they could no longer keep their eyes open, they fell asleep. Michel was the first. He had been laying on the bed, his head in Nikita's lap. Nikita had felt herself ready to nod off, but pulled herself back, if for no other reason that to listen to Michel. Eventually, when she heard no more from him, she too closed her eyes and let her body rest.

It wasn't until almost four o'clock in the afternoon that Nikita heard the clicking of a door lock. It must be Elizabeth or the children. "Can you come back later, I'm sort of busy at the moment?" Nikita called out.

The door opened and standing in the doorway was Elizabeth. She had a rather strange look on her face. "I'm sorry miss . . . they said they'll throw me in prison . . ."

Nikita was confused. "Elizabeth?"

Just then, a figure stepped into the room. "I believe you have something that belongs to me." It was Madeleine. She smiled. Nikita didn't know why but for once, she was truly terrified.